Tonight was a most tremendous event, the Femmes Go Dirty South reading at the Center for Sex and Culture. The lineup consisted of some of my favorite favorite performers here in the Bay Area: Renee Garcia, Allison Stelly, Daphne Gottlieb, Blyth Barnow, Nomy Lamm, Virgie Tovar, Carol Queen, Tori Adams — and then, of course, there was the most phenomenal Alysia Angel, all the way up here from North Carolina. I had the privilege of MC-ing, the pleasure of being with each of these performer’s indelible words, the
I am exhausted. I could not be more grateful.
Here’s why I’m telling you about this reading: because I haven’t come yet today, and it’s just almost midnight. Today started at 6am (much earlier than that), and hasn’t stopped.
I will do it before sleeping, though. I promised the crowd (the very hot, loud, ferocious crowd) at the reading, and I’ve promised you all, and I promised myself. Then I’ll get up tomorrow morning, and do it again.
Tonight’s will be fast, I think, after so much powerful, glittery energy; after so many good shoes (goddamn, get together a performance by a group of femmes and TRUST that the crowd is going to show up turned out in their FINEST); after all that hooting and hollering and mm-hmm-ing; after words that bring tears, that bring rage, that bring heat and slick, that bring laughter, that bring wanting and loss, that bring passion and celebration.
More tomorrow. Just now, radical self care looks like leaving all the clean up for the morning, and taking these written-upon, glitter-stained hands to bed.
Be easy with you and your body. Thanks for reading — come again tomorrow!